Tag Archives: christmas

Old St. Nick. Short Story / Happy Holidays!

Hey guys,

wanted to wish everyone a happy holidays and I hope everyone is having a wonderful time!

– Alan


Old St. Nick. Short Story.

Nick watched the house until the last light went out, then he waited a little longer. After half an hour he quietly opened his car door and stepped out into the snow, he paused to grab his red sack then gently shut the door behind himself. It was a lovely area, large towering trees lined the street, it was hard to make out what kind of tree they were in the dark but from his daytime visits he thought they were some kind of oak. Christmas lights flashed and blinked up and down the street, carefully stuck to houses or artfully wrapped around trees. Though snow covered the gardens he knew that the grass would be perfectly manicured and the flowerbeds would be perfectly tended come spring. He crossed the road, snow crunching underfoot and made his way down the side of the house and over the tall wall that blocked the front garden from the back. The back garden was a wide open space, trees lined the walls, blocking the neighbours from peering in. He was tempted to walk across the fresh, virginal snow but he restrained himself, maybe later, on his way out.

The decking was covered in snow which was thick enough to provide traction, wouldn’t do to take a nasty fall out here. He paused at the backdoor, long enough to pull a key from his pocket, he slid it into the lock and he turned it. The door opened with a faint but satisfying click, he eased it open slowly, if he pushed it too quickly it would make a single, high pitched shriek. The kitchen was dark and the warmth of the house washed over him. He wiped his feet on the mat then stepped onto the marble tiles. He crept across the kitchen and went into the sitting room. A tree was set up in one corner, covered in decorations and lights that sparkled faintly in the soft street light from outside, he could just make out the outline of presents stacked neatly beneath it. He moved to the fireplace, not bothering to turn on any lights, he’d been here enough to walk through the house blindfolded. At the fireplace he picked up the glass of milk, beside it was a plate with a few cookies and a carrot, he carried the milk back out of the sitting room, careful that it didn’t slip through his gloved fingers, in the kitchen he emptied the glass into the sink. He returned the empty glass to the sitting room then picked up the carrot and broke it in half, slipping half into his pocket and putting half back on the plate, before he grabbed a handful of cookies. Munching on one he shoved the rest into his pocket as he moved from the sitting room and began to climb the stairs. On the landing he glanced out the window and saw snow was starting to fall again, smiling he turned from the window and moved down to the fourth door on the left. He eased the door open, it opened smoothly now, gone was that annoying creak, it only took a little bit of oil applied during one of his previous visits. He could see Bob and Kelly beneath the blanket, two softly breathing lumps. They would look so innocent in their slumber, he knew that from previous visits too. But they weren’t innocent, they were quite firmly on his naughty list. He put his sack onto the ground and reached around inside for a second before pulling out a thick metal pipe. He had to be quick, in and out, that was the rule. He raised the pipe above his head and with a soft grunt brought it down hard on Kelly’s head. It connected with a heavy crack, Kelly didn’t move. Beside her Bob was starting to stir, not fully aware of what was happening just yet. Nick swung the pipe again, connecting squarely with Bob’s temple. There was a meaty thud this time, Bob’s eyes opened, he moaned something as he struggled against the blankets, Nick swung again and again, grunting with each strike, feeling the warm blood splash across his face. When he finished his white gloves and cuffs matched the red of his suit, his white beard was stained with gore. Breathing heavily he placed the pipe back into his sack, then he picked it up and left the room, closing the door gently as he went. On the landing he paused and listened, there were no sounds in the house, the kids were still sleeping. Good, what ever their parents had done, they were still innocent. He went down the stairs and out through the backdoor, not bothering to relock it behind himself.

Outside he breathed in deeply, enjoying the cold fresh air, snow was falling heavily now, great thick flakes that made everything look clean, new. He pulled the pipe from his bag and smiling to himself, swung it around the white snow covering it in splashes of red. Almost as soon as he was finished the blood was covered by snow. He climbed over the wall and quickly made his way across the street. He got into his car and stripped out of his clothes, he pulled the Santa beard from his face and shoved it into the sack, along with the wire glasses and the Santa costume he had been wearing. Once he was stripped and mostly cleaned he put on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a heavy jumper. Shivering in the cold he turned on the car, put the heating on full blast, then pulled out, it wouldn’t be long before the snow had filled in the tire tracks, it was supposed to snow until the morning. He flicked on the radio and found some Christmas music and singing along to it he drove off into the night.

The Visitor. Short Story.

Jack looked out the window, the snow had been falling for hours now with no sign of it stopping. Thick flakes fell steadily, it was impossible to make out the house across the street. He squinted, trying to see something, but there was nothing. The news said the snow falls would be heavy, but he hadn’t expected it to be this bad. Still, the house was warm and he had plenty of food and water for the next few days. He liked watching the snow falling, with the gentle crackling of the fire behind him. He saw something moving outside, just where the path would be, a dark shape walking through the snow. Jack shook his head, it was dangerous to go out in weather like that, far to easy to get turned around, or even just underestimate how cold it would be. The figure passed by again, Jack tried to make out who it was but it didn’t look like any of his neighbours, at least by body shape. Whoever it was was tall, maybe six and a half feet, perhaps even taller as they seemed to walk with their shoulders hunched forward. They were wearing what Jack assumed to be a thick black coat, but other than that he could make out little else.

Jack looked out the window periodically, and each time he’d see that figure, trudging back and forth. Before he had been happy he was alone in the house, it made everything seem quiet, peaceful, but now he wished Samantha had come over earlier. He wanted someone else there, just to be sure he was seeing what he was seeing. The figure made him uneasy, he felt like he should call the police, but there was nothing wrong with going for a walk in a snow storm, it was inadvisable yes, but the person seemed to be doing ok. There was a nagging worry though, what if they weren’t all there mentally? They could freeze to death if they were lost or if they had just slipped out. After a while he decided that if they were still out there in another hour or so, he’d make the phone call. He knew it would be easier to just pop outside for a second to ask if they were all right, but his mother had always told him not to get involved. It just made things dangerous and messy. She had spent most of her life getting involved in one way or another. She had spent most of his childhood peering out the windows or gossiping on the phone with her friends. She would sometimes call the cops if she saw something or someone suspicious, but that was the extent of her involvement.

The knock on the door startled him, he wasn’t expecting anyone and even if he was, surely they would have cancelled due to snow. As he walked to the door he wondered who it could be. A sudden image came to mind, that tall, black figure. Were they still outside? He hadn’t checked in a while, truth be told he had forgotten about it, getting too absorbed in the movie he had been watching. He stood at the door, hand on the knob. He wanted his hand to turn it, he wanted to open the door but he couldn’t. His hand refused to respond. The knocking didn’t come again. After a few seconds he moved around to the window to peek out, the tall figure was standing there. Staring at the door. He still couldn’t see them properly, but now he assumed it was a man, mostly due to height, which was closer to seven foot really. They had pale skin though most of it was covered. Whoever it was didn’t move, they just waited, almost expectantly. Jack felt a thrill of fear running up his spine, if this person meant him harm there was little he could do. The snow would probably dampen the noise of a struggle and the police wouldn’t arrive in time. What if it was someone that was lost and looking for a bit of heat or directions? Jack moved back from the window, if they were looking for help they’d have moved to the next house by now. No, whoever it was was waiting for something.

The knock came again, heavy and authoritative. Before he realised what he was doing Jack was standing in front of the door again, hand on the doorknob. Still his hand wouldn’t turn, it was like it was stuck in place. He was being ridiculous, he knew he was, he should just open the door and talk to them. He took a deep breath and released it slowly, then he twisted the doorknob. The door swung in, pushed by a strong gust of wind, there was no one standing at his door. Shivering in the cold he closed it quickly, snowflakes were all across the floor. He shook his head, he had been silly and paranoid and whoever it was had sought help elsewhere. He was getting to be just like his mother, soon he wouldn’t even leave the house. Jack moved back into the sitting room and held his hands towards the fire, heating them. Once they were warm he turned and jumped, the figure was standing at the window, staring in. It was a man, his face was emaciated, his pale skin stretched tight across his skull, his eyes were wide and staring and he grinned. The grin was far to big, and showed far too many teeth. Slowly, the man raised one hand, he unfurled his long, bony fingers and waved slightly. Jack, heart thudding in his chest, raised his own hand in a return greeting. The man outside smile stretched further back, Jack was afraid the mans skull would split in two if it became any wider. The man outside gave another little wave, then he turned and trundled back into the snow. Jack watched as he walked away, the walk was strange, disjointed and unbalanced, almost a lurch. Heart thudding heavily Jack watched the falling snow, waiting for another glimpse of the man covered in black.

Jack took a sip of his tea, he needed to calm down, whoever it was was long gone, the police had already told him that, though they promised they’d get someone out to have a look as soon as they could, but it would be a few hours at best. He sipped his tea as he watched the snow, the snowstorm was ending, the flakes dying off. He could finally see across the street now. He frowned, was their door open? It swung back and forth gently on its hinges, a gaping maw. He felt another thrill of fear along his spine. He moved closer to the window, there was a red streak outside the door, the snow was starting to cover it, but it was there. A knock came at the door, Jack jumped, spilling his tea on the couch. He turned his head slowly to look towards the front door, afraid to make any sudden movements. The man was standing at the door, he was looking in the window, staring at Jack, the grin still plastered across his face. Jack looked down at the pinkish snow around the mans feet. Slowly Jack stood and moved away from the window, the mans head turned to follow him. The knock came again, three heavy pounds. Once the man was out of view Jack grabbed his phone and ran upstairs, there he locked the door to his bedroom and then his in the en-suite, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, he rang 911 again.

When the police arrived the man was gone, but his handiwork was not. Carved into the door was a simple message, “see you soon friend” gouged into the wood in jagged letters four inches high. They wouldn’t tell Jack what happened in the house across the street, but he could guess by the paleness of the officers.

Jack didn’t watch the news that night, nor did he read the papers. People were talking about it though. Anytime someone tried to talk to him about it he shut down the conversation. He didn’t want to know what happened to the people across the street. What could have happened to him. What would happen to him. He knew that the man in black would return, it didn’t matter where he went he would be found. He had tried to tell himself he was just being paranoid, being silly, but he had seen the madness in those eyes and it had seen him, marked him somehow, he would never be able to escape it.

Ressurrection of an Ancient Tradition. Short Story.

So christmas is over, no more presents, but don’t worry, there is still leftovers. And you know, love and junk.

Christmas was fun, though slightly stressful, we finished out visiting, then cooked dinner, I finished making dessert (pears poached in red wine, yum!) Then we drank and ate and were merry. Then after I pretty much zoned out on the couch, I was insanely tired.

I then bought a bunch of books off amazon, so yay! I’ll have some reading to keep me occupied before I get back to college to my final semester (aaaahhhhh).

I realised that I haven’t really done a christmas story, so I figured I would rectify that, but it will be short today because everyone is obviously tired and drained and would probably have short attention spans.

Hope everyone’s day was fun yesterday, regardless of what they were doing, who they were with and what they were celebrating.

On with the show!


Resurrection of an Ancient Tradition

“Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring not even a mouse” I stop reading from the ancient scroll “this is preposterous. What makes you think such a person existed?” Dr Johnstone moves excitedly amongst the machinery “because what kind of culture would dedicate so much time and effort to celebrate a fictional character? Besides, we did find that toy work shop in the north pole, with suspiciously small skeletons!” I look at him incredulously “but…but that’s nonsense, what proof do you have that those skeletons didn’t  belong to midgets or small children instead of elves? It could have been a slave labour shop, you know how barbaric they were back then.” To my right a tube of green liquid sizzles over a Bunsen burner, it starts to boil, then turns to a vibrant purple. Dr Johnstone calls out to Jacob “start the machinery my boy!” I have tried to talk him out of this insane plan to resurrect this “Santa Claus” I really do think he has finally lost the plot. All we have to go on are various legends and a destroy factory in the north pole, destroyed around the time of the last wars. I have tried to convince him otherwise but he wont listen, he is convinced he is right and when he gets that way, nothing can dissuade him. Who knows what kind of monster he is resurrecting, he collected DNA from a large skeleton found near the workshop and plans to clone who ever it was, but who knows what he could be unleashing on the world. People back then were all savages. Barely keeping order until the nuclear fall out of 2056, even now, three hundred years later, we still haven’t fully repaired all the damage they caused. What if it isn’t even a person? We’ve all heard tales and legends of the mutations and genetic engineering that was attempted, who knows what we could be reviving? The cogs start to grind, Dr Johnstone pulls levers wildly, I stand back and watch, I will have no part in this, this travesty. I mean come on, what kind of person can deliver toys to 6 billion people in one night? It is preposterous.

Steam starts to fill the resurrection capsule. Too late to go back now the process once started is unstoppable without turning the power off at the source. Cogs turn and grind as the machine picks up speed working faster and faster to recreate whatever or whoever the DNA belonged too, it’s speed continues to build before it finishes creating a cacophonous crescendo.

The machine is starting to wind down now, the cogs are slowing and the loud roar is dying, all that’s left is the application of skin. I lean forward, eager to see what is coming, despite my convictions, Who knows what we have recreated, just seeing it could answer so many questions. The whole lab holds their breath. The steam clears, the capsule is empty.

There is a collective sigh of relief, only Dr Johnstone seems disappointed.
Out of the corner of my eye I see a bench move, a loud screech flaring to life then dying away. A tray of vials crashes to the ground they bubble and sizzle, eating into the ground. we look around but we can see no-one. I can hear something, its faint but it sounds like chuckling. I jump as I feel a breath of warm air caress my ear “Ho ho ho”

The sound of manic laughter grows. My god, what have we unleashed.

Happy Christmas!

Happy Christmas!

Just thought I would take a moment between the frantic running about that is christmas day to wish you and yours an amazing christmas or an amazing Sunday if you don’t celebrate christmas!

Whether you’re opening presents/watching them being opened,running around trying to get dinner ready, just getting ready in general (no lazing in pyjamas for you!) or simply relaxing, I hope the day will be everything you want it to be.

I’m now off to visit relatives and gorge on finger food before returning home to finish making dessert and to then gorge on christmas dinner.

Oh christmas, the one time calories don’t count.

See you tomorrow with a new story!

– Alan.